One Phone Call Away
by Zip Goes A Million
Summary: Modern AU one-shot. Sybil and Larry are in a stable relationship and things are going well, until Sybil finds him in a less than desirable state. How does Sybil deal with this new turn of events?
1. Chapter 1

**One Phone Call Away**

Sybil walked through the front door of her boyfriend's house and hung up her coat and bags on the hooks behind the black-painted wooden door. She kicked off her heels and nudged them towards the overflowing shoe rack on the floor as she placed her house keys on the little table pushed against the wall. After a full day walking around in heels with barely a second to sit down, she was glad to be able to stand on flat feet again. She walked down the hall on the polished dark wood floor, dragging her feet as she went, her tights gliding effortlessly on the surface. She quietly climbed the cream carpeted stairs, taking time to look at the photos hanging on the wall. Most were of his family and his childhood, but a few were of him and his friends at university on wild nights out that for the most part they couldn't remember the following morning. A couple of those photos had Sybil in them too, but not many. When the two of them had gone out together with friends, more often than not, Sybil ended up chatting to the girls, while Larry got drunk with the boys. She smiled at a picture of Larry when he was a little boy – he was a charmer back then as much as he was now. Sybil's family had known the Greys for generations, so Sybil had spent a chunk of her childhood being forced to stay with Larry and his brother, along with her sisters, while their parents talked alone. She knew back then that Larry had a thing for her, but she could never see it happening. But then, when she was nineteen they'd got together, much to Sybil's surprise, and had been together ever since. "Larry," she called, climbing the last few stairs. She aimed her voice to his bedroom, where he seemed to spend most of his time. She wanted to tell him that she and Mary had arranged a time for the two of them to stay at Downton during the holidays. "I spoke to Mary last night," she said as she walked towards his closed bedroom door, "and she said that we can…" She stopped in her tracks. She'd opened Larry's door to find him lying naked on top of the covers with another woman.

"Fuck, Sybil, I can explain," Larry said quickly, clambering off the bed, as the woman unbeknownst to Sybil scrambled on the bed to cover her body with the messy sheets. Sybil turned on her heel, made her way down the hall and ran down the stairs, blanking out all the pleasant thoughts she'd had of the framed photos on the wall on her way up. She deliberately ignored her key to Larry's house lying on the side and walked out of the house, her bag on her shoulder, her coat over her arm and her shoes in her hand. "Sybil!" Larry called, rushing out of his house to follow her, now wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Sybil continued down the road until she reached her car. She walked around to the driver's side of the vehicle, slipped into the seat and drove off as soon as possible. She didn't want to talk to Larry. She didn't want to be associated with him. Not now. Things hadn't been going badly between them, either. They had been talking about moving in together. That was all down the drain now. Two and a half years of a steady relationship all gone in a moment. Why the hell was he sleeping with another woman anyway? It's not like Sybil wasn't willing to have sex. If anything, Sybil's sex drive was stronger than Larry's. More than once she'd had to relieve her feelings herself, but she always did it _alone_; she didn't get another man to do it for her! How long had he been unfaithful to her? Was this the first time? Or was this the tenth time? Sybil couldn't tell, but she didn't care. She didn't want to know. Either way, it was all over.

When she arrived at her own house, she drove carefully onto the drive, calmer than she should have been, and made quick work of getting out of the car and through her front door. She hung her coat on the end of the banister to the stairs and put her shoes and bag on the floor. She silently made her way to the kitchen and made herself a mug of cranberry tea. She sat on the side, next to the sink, sipping from the mug in her hands. She swung her legs, hitting her heels against the drawers beneath the counter and thought about what had just happened to her. She'd just lost a boyfriend. He had been a big part of her life and now that part of her life was completely gone. One second had taken everything she thought she knew about him away. She had a new void in her life that hadn't been there for quite some time. She thought about what had happened. Why now? Why hadn't he broken up with her before fucking another girl? If he was too attached to her to break up with her, then why was he fucking another girl in the first place? However, if there's one thing that Sybil had discovered about Larry Grey in the past half an hour, it was that he was an arch idiot and a dick to go with it. In a way, though, she was glad that she walked in on him and whoever _she_ was. He couldn't deny anything now. Not that Sybil would give him the chance anyway. She heard her phone play 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious' from _Mary Poppins_ and recognised it as her ringtone. She put her now half empty mug down on the side next to her, hopped down to the floor and walked towards her bag, where she'd dumped it on the floor only ten minutes before. It was Larry. _I should have guessed. _She pressed 'ignore' decisively and then took her phone back to the kitchen with her. She resumed her spot on the side and sent Larry a text: _It's over. Don't even bother trying._

She picked up her mug again and continued to drink. Why should she let him rule her life now? From this point, she didn't want him to be a part of her life any longer, and she wasn't about to allow him to force himself into her arms. She thought she should be more upset though. She had spent two and a half years with this man – buying him presents, going on holidays, spending days at a time together, without a moment apart. Did she really have such little respect for him now that she didn't even care? She hadn't expected to feel like this, but here she was, sitting in her kitchen, wanting to never see him again in her life.

She frowned. She looked at her phone. She scrolled through her contacts, going up and down the list aimlessly. There were some numbers that she used often: _Mary Crawley_, _Gwen Dawson_, even _Elsie Hughes_. And then there were others that she rarely used: _Richard Clarkson_ – her boss at the hospital, _William Mason_ – Gwen's boyfriend, and _Joseph Molesley_ – her grandmother's 'butler'. She kept on scrolling until she reached _Tom Branson_. She stared at the words for a moment. She scrolled past, but swiftly scrolled back to the contact. She pressed the words and stared at his phone number. He was one phone call away. Things could all be different if she just made one phone call. She pressed the eleven digit number, telling her phone to ring his phone. She held her phone to her ear, with her warm mug of tea still in her hand, resting on one leg. "Hello?"

"Hi, Tom, it's Sybil."

"Oh, hi, how are you?"

"I'm not doing too badly. Look, umm, I know this is going to sound ridiculous and don't take this the wrong way and you don't have to say yes and I apologise in advance if what I'm about to do all goes terribly wrong and I give you full permission to hate me and never speak to me again after this, but, umm… do you wanna come round for a shag?"

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><p><em>This is quite different for me, and I might continue it if there's enough interest, but I probably won't. I don't know if it turned out well - I don't usually do this sort of thing. I hoe you like it, though, and please leave a review to let me know what you thought of it.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**One Phone Call Away: Chapter 2**

Sybil stood in her kitchen and stared at the floor. _He's coming. He's actually coming._ She'd spoken to Tom just ten minutes ago. She was half expecting him not to want to see her – it must have sounded like a ridiculous request from Tom's side. _"Do you wanna come round for a shag?" _Sybil hadn't even asked politely. She was blunt and didn't mess around with the question. And now Tom was on his way to her house. It had been a short conversation. He'd hesitated in his answer, and Sybil wasn't surprised by it. But he'd then told Sybil that he would be at her house as soon as possible.

She'd finished her tea in one go as soon as she'd hung up the phone, placing the empty mug carelessly next to the sink. She probably should have taken the time to wash it up, but that wasn't at the top of her priority list. Almost immediately, she had made her way upstairs, dropping her phone on top of her bag as she walked past it, in order to clean her teeth and brush her hair. She wanted sex and Tom was going to allow her to have that, but she didn't want to greet him looking completely dishevelled and with breath smelling of the food she'd had a few hours ago.

She continued to stare at the floor. Tom should be here soon. She didn't know exactly when. If Tom was at home when she'd called, then it would take him about fifteen minutes to get to her house, but Sybil had no idea where he was when she'd called. He might have been at home, but he might have been somewhere in town for all she knew. The doorbell sounded. Sybil's gaze snapped up from the floor and she made her way to the front door, stopping briefly in the hallway to look in the mirror, checking her appearance one last time before letting Tom in. She smiled as she opened the door and stood slightly to the side so that Tom could step into the house. "Hi," she said, looking him in the eye, holding his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before turning to close the door.

"Sybil…" Tom said, not sure what to say next. She said nothing in reply, but looked at him through her long dark eyelashes. "Look, Sybil," he started.

"Yes?" she said, her voice low as she stood close to him, pushing her body closer to him than would be considered normal for two friends – even close friends. She stood directly in front of him, giving him little chance to escape, and placed her fingers lightly on his chest, tapping each finger on his chest in succession. Tom took a step back, but Sybil followed and pushed her body flush against his.

"Sybil," Tom said, trying to sound more forceful, but not getting any of it through to Sybil. She raised onto the balls of her feet until her mouth was level with Tom's ear and whispered,

"Upstairs." She ran her hand down his chest as she walked away, indicating for him to follow her. Sybil had only got a few strides down the corridor when Tom caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, prompting her to spin around suddenly, her hair flying across her face before settling around her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" he asked calmly. His heart rate was through the roof and he hoped that his voice didn't sound too shaky, but he couldn't be sure. If circumstances were different, perhaps he would have followed her up the stairs. He knew that she was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. He knew that his friends would tease him for passing up the opportunity to get into bed with someone like her, but he didn't care. This wasn't Sybil. She wasn't acting normally and he didn't want to be the reason for her regret in days to come.

"What do you mean?" Sybil said. Her voice remained lowered and was now becoming husky. She lowered her gaze, but then moved her eyes up to meet Tom's without moving her head in the same direction. She bit her full lower lip and looked coy, yet keeping an air of confidence about her.

"What's happened?" Tom said firmly. "Sybil, I haven't come here to have a shag, however much you might want one. This isn't normal. Something's up. What about you and Larry? What's happened there?"

Suddenly, Sybil's demeanour flipped. She was no longer trying to be sensual and seductive. Her posture faltered, she dropped her head and her eyebrows drew together, causing furrows to appear between them. She closed her eyes hard before turning away from Tom and making her way to the kitchen. She didn't lose composure until Tom mentioned Larry. That was the problem. Tom had cracked her. Or rather, he'd broken down the first barrier. But there was much more to go. Tom took a drawn-out breath in before following Sybil. She was standing by the side, looking out of the window with her arms folded across her chest, trying to hold back the tears. "Sybil," Tom tried gently as he walked slowly into the room. Sybil couldn't take it. That one word from Tom caused her to let out silent tears. Her lower lip trembled, she dropped her head again and the salty drops fell down her cheeks. Keeping one arm tightly across her torso, she raised her right hand to her face to wipe away the tears as her shoulders fell forwards. Tom walked over to her. He wanted to be a source of comfort to her, but he wanted to do it the right way – not by having sex with her to make her feel better for an hour or so, just for her to reduce into an even worse state afterwards. "You can talk to me," he said softly, "if you need to." Sybil let herself continue to cry before saying through sobs,

"I'm an idiot, Tom!"

"No you're not," Tom insisted.

"Yes I am!" Sybil said as tears made mascara streaks down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, letting out with a sob, "Larry cheated on me."

"Oh, Sybil," Tom said, unsure what to say to her.

"I walked in on him, Tom," Sybil said, looking at Tom. Her eyes were glazed with tears and her face was contorted in an expression that Tom didn't know. It wasn't quite worry, and it wasn't quite sadness, but it wasn't anger either. Perhaps it was a kind of self-hatred or just because she didn't understand what had happened and didn't know what to do. Sybil began to pace up and down the kitchen, her hands covering her face. "I don't even know who she is," she muffled through her hands. "I don't know what to do," she said, turning to face Tom. She dropped her hands by her sides and let the tears roll down her cheeks. Tom approached her and wrapped his arms around her. She fell into him and sobbed into his shirt. Tom held her tightly and tried to comfort her. He rubbed her back in small circles until she calmed down a bit.

It took a few minutes for Sybil to stop her shaking sobs. She pulled away from Tom's grasp and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "This can be sorted out, Sybil. But a shag from me isn't the way to go." Sybil smiled at this.

"Sorry," Sybil said, sniffing back the remains of her emotions. "You didn't have to come round."

"Yes, I did. Something obviously wasn't right. You wouldn't have asked what you did if things between you and Larry were perfectly fine."

Sybil smiled. _He understands me more than Larry ever did. How could I have been stupid enough to choose Larry of all people? And for two years!_ "Umm, do you mind staying for a bit?"

"Of course I'll stay. I'll stay for as long as you want me to," Tom said warmly.

"Do you want a drink?" Sybil asked, making her way towards the kettle, some of her usual, cheerful self beginning to make its way back into her body. She seemed much calmer now. Maybe Tom had a calming effect on Sybil. But maybe she would have calmed down by now anyway even if he hadn't come round. Or perhaps if Tom had refused her offer, she would have called someone else and got the shag she wanted in the first place.

"Coffee, please," Tom replied. Sybil flicked the switch on the kettle and took one mug from the shelf for Tom and picked up hers from earlier, still sitting unwashed by the sink. She spooned a pile of coffee powder into the clean mug (she didn't care for 'proper' coffee, so used instant instead) and grabbed a tea bag, placing it in her own mug. Adding milk to both, knowing that Tom always had milk, she then added the boiled water. Once she'd stirred the drinks, she passed Tom his coffee and took her tea in her own hands, making her way into the living room. Tom followed, trying not to spill the hot liquid over the rim of the mug as he went.

Sybil sat on the light brown soft sofa, and Tom took his place on the other sofa cushion, placing his mug on the side table. Sybil wrapped her hands around her warm mug and sighed, looking down into the depths of the tea. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk," Tom offered, slipping his shoes off and placing them to one side.

"Well, I don't even really know what happened," Sybil began. "Things were fine between us. I know we've had our moments, but the last even vaguely rocky patch we went through was a month or so ago."

"Have you had any petty arguments recently?" Tom asked with a frown. He wanted to get to the bottom of why Larry had been so heartless towards Sybil.

"The other day he was moaning about how my working hours are unpredictable and make having a social life tricky, but that's about the biggest argument we've had recently. And it wasn't even an argument, really. It was more of a discussion, if anything."

"So, we can assume he's not trying to get back at you for a disagreement or anything," Tom thought aloud, frowning slightly at the new, but unhelpful information. "You've been a nurse for years though," he said, as what Sybil had said sunk in. "How can he start complaining now?"

"For the last couple of months I've been taking extra shifts. I'm thinking of possibly starting training as a doctor. There's a lot to think about, but if I do go ahead with it, I'll look good for having done more than most other nurses who are transitioning. At least, I hope it will give me the upper hand."

"Really?" Tom asked, his Irish brogue raised in pitch. Sybil nodded, a small and sheepish smile creeping onto her face.

"That's amazing, Sybil. It's a lot of training though, isn't it?"

"Yeah, _at least_ seven years once I've actually made a decision, but if I do anything extra, it can be longer. Hopefully, in fifteen years' time it will all be over and I can just be a qualified doctor, but we'll see."

"You'd be good at it, I think," Tom said, as he took his mug from the small table next to the settee.

"Well, that's precisely what I thought. And it would mean more money too, and I think I'll enjoy the work. But Larry seems to think that it will give me even less of a social life and that it will ruin everything between us." Sybil paused. "Not that that matters now; he's gone and ruined everything between us already."

"And you have no idea why he'd do this?" Tom asked, gently nudging Sybil to try and think about why Larry would do it, despite knowing how painful this must be for the gorgeous brunette sitting by him. Sybil shook her head, looking into her lap and then sipped from her mug, not looking up to meet Tom's gaze. "Sybil, I know this is a sore subject. I know this is new, and you don't know how to deal with it, but I want to help. Really I do."

"I know. And thank you. I really appreciate it. But I'm not sure what you can do to help," she said quietly.

"Sybil," Tom said, but then paused to gather his thoughts. "Look, I like you. I really do. And I promise you that I will help as much as I can in whatever way possible, no matter what. But, honestly, a shag from me just because Larry's been unfaithful is not going to help in any way at all."

"I know," Sybil said, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand as the other hand kept hold of her mug in her lap. "But you actually like me?" she asked, now looking at Tom.

"Yes, I actually do," Tom confirmed. "But I don't want to be a rebound thing. We both know that you need to recover from this first, whether you want to admit it or not."

"How long have you liked me?" Sybil asked, smiling coyly. Despite the fact that Tom was trying to be serious and sensible about the situation, Sybil was still concentrating on what he'd said a minute before.

"A few years. Since I first saw you, pretty much," Tom admitted, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Really?" Sybil said, her voice taking on a higher pitch than normal in surprise.

"Really," Tom said. "I was gutted when you got with Larry, if I'm honest."

"Well, right now, I'm pretty gutted that I got with Larry," Sybil laughed.

"You don't mean that."

"Yeah, I do."

"So, it ended on a bad note, but be honest with yourself – the last two years or so, the years you were with Larry, there were more good times than bad times, weren't there? More laughs than arguments?" Sybil looked down and smiled to herself, realising that Tom was completely right.

"You know, I saw a future with Larry. It could have worked. I certainly would have let it. I mean we were talking about moving in together for a while. What we had together was good really."

"Sybil, I'm not expecting you to like Larry again. No one can expect you to forgive him or let him get back together with you, but if there's one piece of advice I can give you, just stay civil. You know, if you walk past each other, acknowledge each other, maybe say hello; or if you happen to be at the same party or something, don't spend the entire time ignoring him and trying to avoid him. He's not been nice to you, I know that, but you can rise above him. You're far better than he ever was."

"Mm," Sybil agreed, with some effort. If Larry were to walk into the room right now, she'd be far from civil to him. It would take a while before she could consider being civil to him. Tom was right and Sybil knew it, but at the same time, Tom didn't have the feelings towards Larry that Sybil had at this point. He hadn't actually been through what she'd experienced.

"If you're as horrid to him as he's been to you, then he'll know that he can get to you. He'll know that he gets under your skin and he'll find a way to make your life hell."

"He's already done that – close enough, anyway."

"Trust me, he can do a lot worse. If you two aren't together, he's got nothing to lose, so he won't have a reason to hold back. All he's done is cheat on you."

"_All_ he's done?" Sybil asked loudly, warning Tom to be cautious about what he said next.

"What I mean is that he hasn't done anything directly towards you. He's hurt you and I accept that, but it wasn't a direct hit. And if he's stupid enough to drive you away like that, it's his loss, not yours. He's the one in the wrong – it's his fault," Tom assured kindly as he drank his coffee.

"He wants to get back together," Sybil admitted, not breaking eye contact with Tom.

"How do you know?"

"When I left, he came after me, and he rang me once I was back here."

"What did he say?" Tom asked, trying not to pry too much.

"I refused to answer the phone, so I don't know. I assume he was going to try to apologise and fix it all. But I sent him a text telling him not to bother and he seems to have understood."

"Do you want to get back with him?" Tom asked calmly, despite the fact that beneath the surface he was as tense as he'd ever been. He desperately wanted her to say no. He'd declared his feelings for her and he almost wanted her to fall into his arms and snog him senseless. If she were to do that though, he wasn't convinced that he would be able to stop himself from kissing her back. His heart wanted to feel her body pressed against his as soon as possible, but his head told him what was sensible. He knew he had to go with his head, but he wasn't sure how long his head would be able to fight his heart. It was tough with a gorgeous woman in front of him. She truly was stunning in every way possible. It was rare to come across someone like Sybil and he knew it.

"Not a chance," Sybil said with a shake of her head. Tom inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He had no idea if Sybil liked him enough for her to ever agree to go out with him, but he at least now had a little bit of hope that things could begin to move forward between them. "I've got no idea who that woman was, Tom," Sybil said, reliving her last experience at Larry's house in her head. "I've never seen her before in my life. And I know most of Larry's friends, so I guess that means he's been seeing her secretly for some time – I mean, they have to know each other relatively well to be where they were when I arrived at Larry's." Tom didn't know how to respond to that. Sybil had had a truly shitty time and he couldn't relate to it. He'd never experienced what she was going through. He looked into Sybil's eyes and she looked into his.

"Sybil, can I ask you something?" he said, cautious of what he was about to ask.

"Of course you can," she said, not taking her eyes off Tom's.

"Why me of all people? Why did you want a shag from me, over everyone?" Sybil dropped her eyes, staring into her almost empty mug.

"You were always kind to me," Sybil said quietly. "I finally got away from my parents and moved into my own place and was earning my own money and everything was fine, but I was kind of lost. I didn't really know how to be on my own all the time. I did as much as I could when I was with my parents, but when I wasn't sure of anything, there was always someone else there to do it for me, so I was never forced to figure anything out for myself. And then I was suddenly all alone and a lot of my oldest friends didn't really want to have anything to do thing me anymore because I'd completely disregarded my parents' plans for me. I was non-conventional and they didn't like it, so they left me. But then I met you and you stuck with me from the start. You helped me when I needed it and I never got the impression from you that you were judging me for my inability to cook a decent meal or for my ignorance about replacing a blown bulb. You were just always there when I needed you, and I've never found that in another person. I guess that I just finally put two and two together – you're one of my closest friends because I like you, and perhaps you're always willing to help because maybe you like me too. I took a chance and I shouldn't have done, and I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do."

"You should have done," Tom said.

"What do you mean?"

"You were right to take the chance. If you called someone else you probably would have ended up getting that shag, but I really think you would have regretted it tomorrow morning. But you chose to call me instead and you're not regretting anything. At least, I hope not."

"I'm not going to regret anything," Sybil said with a laugh. "And now I know you like me," she continued, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you really not know before?" Tom asked.

"I really didn't know before. You hid it well. Plus, you've had girlfriends since I've known you so you were off limits anyway."

"Quite honestly, the only reason I had girlfriends was because I knew you were with Larry. I had no chance with you, so there was no point in even trying. And if you haven't noticed, my relationships haven't lasted long since I've known you because you were the only one I ever really had my eye on," Tom said with a smile.

"Yet you refused my offer of sex," Sybil pointed out.

"I didn't want to. Really, I didn't. I was tempted to allow you to lead me upstairs and strip down naked, but I knew something wasn't right. As far as I was concerned, you were still with Larry. I could tell that something clearly wasn't quite right and I wasn't going to let you do something that could potentially turn out extremely badly. If I did that, I'd be hurting you just as much as Larry did, and that's not an option."

"See, that's why I rang you. You're sensible and you're always the voice of reason. Whether I was able to drag you up the stairs or not, I knew in the back of my mind that you'd know how to help," Sybil said, smiling at Tom.

"Getting it all out of your system is always a good start when something bad happens. Just venting to someone usually helps you to see sense in the end. It helps me at least," Tom said, speaking from past experience.

"Well, thank you," Sybil said once she'd drained her mug. "I mean it. Your support means a lot."

"I'll always be here if you need me," Tom said kindly.

A sunset, a couple more mugs of tea and coffee, and a few television programmes later, Sybil was asleep on the sofa, an oversized hoodie that didn't match her otherwise smart clothes providing an extra layer of warmth. Tom looked at her and smiled. He turned the television off as quietly as he could, keeping his footfall as light as possible, and then went to pick up Sybil. She remained sound asleep as he lifted her off the sofa with one arm around her back and the other under her knees. He carefully and quietly carried her through the house, up the stairs and to her bedroom. The covers weren't straightened, making it easier for him to get Sybil into bed. He placed her down on the purple sheet covering the mattress and pulled the duvet over her body. He walked across the room and gently closed the curtains, trying to make as little noise as possible before making his way back across the room, leaving the door slightly ajar as he left. He tiptoed down the stairs, turning the lights out as he went, but when he was back in the living room, he contemplated whether to stay or leave. It's always possible that Sybil would want him there in the morning to talk to him or possibly even to apologise to him for his trouble, knowing the selfless person Sybil was. He had to give her some space though, or things could all end badly and in a big mess. With a bit of silent deliberation, he decided to stay at Sybil's and sleep on the sofa. Whether she wanted to talk in the morning or wanted some quiet company, he'd be there for her, and if she wanted some space and time alone he'd be able to just go home again. Though he was supposed to work tomorrow, he could work from home if he had to. He turned off the light in the living room before settling on the sofa to fall asleep.

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><p><em>Firstly, thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the first chapter and the interest in making it more than a one-shot. Going by reviews, that was definitely my most successful fan fic chapter ever. I'm glad I've continued - as TheYankeeCountess said in her review - "this could be an epic multu-chapter" if you lot keep up the enthusiasm, which so far I have really really really appreciated. Hopefully this chapter has lived up to the first one, and let me know what you think by leaving a review please.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Tom woke up lying on his front with one arm hanging off the sofa, his head no longer resting on the arm of the seat. He rolled slightly and pushed himself up into a sitting position as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He dropped one hand down to the cushion beside him, but let the other drift down his cheek and over his chin. He needed a shave. Though he usually shaved once a day, he hadn't had a chance to shave the previous day, and now was regretting his forty eight hour stubble. Despite being told by various friends more than once (sometimes in less than sober conditions) that stubble made him sexier, he always found it itchy and inconvenient. He pushed himself off the sofa, and after a trip to the small downstairs bathroom, decided to make himself a cup of coffee to wake himself up. He grabbed himself a clean mug and added coffee and milk as he waited for the kettle to boil. He tapped the kitchen counter as the time passed. The kettle seemed to take forever to boil. It always did when he was doing nothing but wait for it. All he could do was wait. And think.

He thought about Sybil; about the position she was in and what she'd told him the night before. She liked him. But did she like him as more than a friend? _You're one of my closest friends because I like you._ Of course she liked him. To be close friends, two people have to like each other really quite a lot, don't they? But did she like him more than that? Was her vision blurred by the fact that she was emotionally drained? Did she really have any idea what she was saying? Was she only saying what she said to make herself feel better?

But it was him whom she called first. He was her go-to guy. _Her go-to shag._ Perhaps she was just using him. Unknowingly, maybe, but it didn't make the situation any better. Tom didn't want to be a rebound. He loved her. He'd been trying to fight off the feelings of his love for her for years. It was nauseatingly painful of course, stopping his mind and body from being that way inclined, and it was hopeless. He could never stop loving her. Not really. Even if she could never love him.

Sybil and Tom had known each other for about two and a half years. Sybil was in her second year of university at the time – the middle year of her nursing studies. It was Tom's first year out of university and they'd met through a mutual friend – Gwen. Sybil had known Gwen since they began studying for A' levels, and their friendship only strengthened when they chose to go to the same university, living in the same halls for the first year and in the same house for the rest of their studies. Gwen knew Tom through family. Gwen's mother and Tom's father had worked together for a few years, and since Tom and Gwen were similar ages, they were often thrown together for playdates, so that their parents could have 'sophisticated' chats without the risk of being interrupted by children. Then, when Gwen went to university, Tom had promised both his parents and Gwen's parents that he'd keep an eye on her and not let her do anything stupid, so they hung out every so often. And then, in Gwen's second year, Sybil came with her once, and thus Sybil met Tom. They'd immediately hit it off and had been close friends ever since, often discussing politics and the class system and such like. If Sybil's father were to find her talking to a journalist about such things, he would have dropped dead in repulsion. But luckily, her father had never met Tom. That was often a reason that she loved being at university – her parents couldn't control her when she was in a different city.

The two of them had always got on well with each other and were often the centre of heated discussions and debates. More than once, Gwen had had to play the role of peace-keeper to stop them from having a full-on argument in the middle of crowded pubs, causing their table to be the centre of attention. After meeting Sybil, Tom couldn't really imagine life without having conversations with her. He wanted to be more, even from the beginning, but never had the courage to ask her on a date. And then, after knowing her for less than six months, she accepted Larry's request for a date, and in seemingly no time at all they were together. A couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. And Tom could do nothing but stand back and watch as they gallivanted together, holding hands and snogging against walls at parties. He was glad that Sybil was happy, but couldn't help but wonder if maybe she would be happier if she were holding his hand rather than Larry's. All he could do was hope. But now that Larry was no longer part of the picture, Sybil had practically thrown herself at Tom, but it just hadn't felt… _right_.

Tom shook himself out of his thoughts when the kettle clicked off. These really weren't healthy thoughts. He filled the remaining space in the mug with the boiling water, stirred the mixture and then carried the mug into the living room where he resumed his spot on the sofa where he'd slept the night before. He turned the television on, making sure the volume was right down so as not to wake Sybil, and flicked onto BBC so that he could catch the news. He leant back on the sofa with his cup of coffee in hand and absorbed what he was being told about the country.

Well, he tried to absorb it. But, despite all of his efforts, he couldn't keep his mind off Sybil. After all, he was in _her_ house, drinking from _her_ mug, watching _her_ television, sitting on _her_ sofa. There was no hope of pushing the thoughts of her to the back of his mind, even for a few minutes. Sybil didn't mean for him to be the rebound, did she? Why would she? Surely she wouldn't risk losing the friendship she had with Tom by getting him to be a rebound fling for one night… would she? No. No, of course not. Tom was just being stupid; reading too much into things. She'd never do that. Tom was one of her closest friends. She'd be sensible. It was just stress and shock and emotional instability. That must be why she'd rung him. She can't have been thinking straight – she wasn't behaving like Sybil; the Sybil Tom knew and loved.

If she wanted a shag and he loved her, then why didn't he just fall into bed with her? For that reason, precisely. Because he loved her. As a friend, at the very least. He wanted them to become more than friends, but he knew all too well that giving her what she'd requested in the first place would have been a stupid idea. He knew that he'd end up being the rebound, and that there was every possibility that they'd lose their friendship. Yes, he'd definitely made the right decision. He was absolutely right to talk to her instead of getting her naked. If he could never be her boyfriend, then he at least wanted to remain friends; close friends; best friends. But if he _could_ be her boyfriend; if there was even a tiny chance that that could happen, he knew that he had to take things slow and not push it. Things would move in their own good time, as his mother always said. He smiled to himself, completely ignoring everything going on around him. _I'd wait forever… she's worth that._

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the rushing of water upstairs. It sounded as if Sybil was having a shower. He stared at the TV for a few minutes, taking in very little of what was being said by newsreaders and reporters abroad. Well, maybe it was a few minutes, but maybe it was twenty. Either way, he stopped when he noticed the rush of water had stopped upstairs. He wandered into the kitchen and decided to make himself another cup of coffee, getting another mug to make one for Sybil too. Though his mind was wide awake, a constant stream of thoughts about Sybil rushing around his head, his body was really not awake in the slightest. Another cup of coffee really couldn't hurt. As he waited for the kettle to boil again, he spooned coffee powder into both mugs, followed by a helping of milk. The water in the kettle seemed to boil quicker now than it had the first time around, and Tom filled the two mugs with the newly boiled water. Before long, he heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. From past experience, he had come to know Sybil as having a fairly light footfall, but perhaps Sybil wasn't quite so light-footed when she'd just woken up.

She yawned as she entered the kitchen, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Tom. She was wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown that had lost most of its fluff over the years. Her sodden hair was in a messy bun on top of her head and her face was not made up. "Hi," Tom said simply. "There's a cup of coffee waiting for you if you want it," he said, tilting his head briefly towards said cup of coffee.

"You stayed," Sybil stated.

"Yeah. I hope that's alright. You fell asleep, I carried you to bed and I crashed on the sofa."

"Thanks," Sybil said flatly. She walked over to the side by Tom, took the mug in her hands, and leant her back against the counter as she began to drink. After a few seconds, she looked at Tom and said, "I mean it. Thank you for last night; for being here; for talking. It helped." Tom smiled.

"I'm always where I'm needed."

"Are you not needed at work today?" Sybil asked, not wanting to be the one to put him at risk of getting fired or getting a warning or whatever happened at the small independent paper he worked for.

"No. My hours are flexible," Tom said. Half of that was a lie. Yes, his hours _were_ flexible, but he actually probably should have gone to work. The thing was, Sybil was more important, and he'd much rather spend his day in Sybil's company than in that of his colleagues.

Sybil snapped her gaze up when her phone, sitting in her bag, still in the hall by the stairs from the night before, played 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'. She put her coffee down on the side and smiled at Tom as she left the room to answer it. Tom watched her leave, but didn't follow her. He simply waited for her to come back. He heard mumbles from the sitting room for a few minutes before Sybil came back, eyes low as she plodded into the room. She was upset. Cautiously, Tom said, "What's up?" Sybil took a deep breath as she picked up her coffee and leant against the side again.

"That was Mary. I was supposed to be going to stay at Downton with Larry for a while this summer. I've been trying to organise it with Mary. She, um… I've just told her what happened." Sybil wandered into the sitting room without looking at Tom. This time Tom followed her out of the room.

"Sybil," Tom said as he walked into the sitting room to see Sybil sitting on the sofa, her legs tucked up beneath her, staring blankly into the telly. "Sybil, this was never going to be easy. Larry's an immoral, unfaithful bastard for what he's done to you, but you can't cling onto it forever."

"It happened yesterday, Tom!" Sybil said, raising her voice. She could either choose anger or sadness and anger seemed to suit her better at the moment. "You can't expect me to be over it when it hasn't even been twenty four hours yet!"

"I'm not expecting you to be over it yet, but…" Tom sighed and brought his hand to his forehead, thinking carefully about how he could move the discussion forward without causing Sybil more distress. "You deserve better," he said softly, looking at her.

"Like who?" Sybil asked, snapping her gaze to meet Tom's.

"Someone who actually cares about you; someone who will go out with you not to have a girl on their arm, but because they love you. Sybil, you are one of the nicest people I have ever known. There's very little bad to say about you and you deserve the best of the best."

"Very little bad?" Sybil asked, quirking an eyebrow as she looked sidelong at Tom. "Like what?"

"Like the fact that when a toxic human such as Larry Grey cheats on you, you don't think straight and the first thing you do is ring a friend to get a shag…" Tom said with a sideways smirk. "Not that you can be blamed for that or anything, but…"

"Oh, alright, alright. I know I've been a pain. And I'm sorry. But I was feeling fragile and vulnerable. I didn't know what else to do, so I rang you." Tom looked down as Sybil said this. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Syb. I'm glad you rang me. And if you're feeling even slightly less defenceless, then it was worth it." Sybil smiled, unable to stop the corners of her lips from moving upwards.

"Well, thank you."

"You don't need to thank me; I'm just doing what anyone would do."

Sybil jumped when she heard knocks at the front door. "I'll get it," Tom said as he pushed himself off the sofa. He made his way to the front door and opened it, expecting to be greeted by a postman or perhaps a next door neighbour. But instead, he was greeted by Larry. He stood there on the other side of the door with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He looked rueful and apologetic, but Tom couldn't help but think ill thoughts of him. "T-Tom…" Larry stumbled, raising his eyebrows, clearly surprised to see Tom at the door and not Sybil. Tom clenched his jaw. _You ungrateful bastard. Do you really think she'll take you back now? How could you cheat on her? WHY would anyone cheat on a woman like Sybil? If you value your life you'll turn around and walk away right now, or you _will_ get a punch._ Of course, Tom didn't say any of this out loud. He barely even had time to think it before Sybil popped her head around the corner and asked,

"Who is it?" But as soon as she lifted her head, she gasped and stopped in her tracks, only half way to the front door, seeing Larry standing just outside it. Larry stared at Sybil, eyes wide and mouth open. He looked her up and down, taking in the garments she was wearing.

"W-what…?" he asked. He wanted to get more out, but couldn't manage it. Sybil turned to look at Tom, utter bewilderment plastered across her face. This was going to be messy…

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><p><em>Dun dun dun! So, this chapter has been a long time in coming - sorry for that, but life happens sometimes. I hope this chapter lived up to all your expectations. I would love to know what you think of this. This couldn't have happened without <em>The Yankee Countess_, who, I swear, is my saviour - my knight in shining armour! So, a MAJOR thank you to her - go read her stuff if you haven't already (but you probably have). So, yeah, thank you for your patience, thanks for sticking with the story and please leave a review if you can._


	4. Chapter 4

__Two chapters in one week - shocking! Oh, the things I go to for fanfiction (I really should have been doing Latin homework while I was writing this, but oh well). So, I hope you like this chapter and review if you do. I'm also going to say that this chapter is a present to The Yankee Countess as a surprise for two reasons. Partly because this fic would not be here without her and she has given me so much help with the last two chapters, and partly because I know she is having a stressful weekend and this is an attempt to make it slightly more cheery and less stressful. I mean, who can be sad when Sybil and Tom are around? Thank you to all of you, too, for your continued love and support.__

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><p><strong>One Phone Call Away: Chapter 4<strong>

"Larry…" Sybil started, staring down the hall at her unfaithful ex. Tom was still standing right by the door and Larry just outside it. Sybil didn't really want to get any closer. She crossed her arms over her chest, subconsciously trying to protect herself. Just seeing Larry was making her feel uncomfortable and vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Sybil," Larry tried, looking as apologetic as ever.

"I don't care how sorry you are. I told you not to bother and I meant it," Sybil said firmly, putting on an act that made her seem more confident than she was really feeling.

"I know and-"

"I'm glad you understand. Feel free to respect my choices whenever you're ready," Sybil said, sarcasm dripping from her words as she turned her back to return to the sitting room. 'Respect' and 'Larry' rarely belonged in the same sentence and Sybil found it ridiculous that she hadn't realised this sooner.

"Sybil, wait!" Larry called, making to move into the house before Tom stopped him.

"Why should I?" Sybil said, whirling her body back round to meet Larry's eyes. "There is nothing between us, Larry. You're a jerk and there isn't a hope in hell that you're getting me back."

"It's not like you're any better than me," Larry called, getting heated in his argument now. "You've gone and fucked this working class piece of scum! He hasn't even shaved!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards Tom with a look of disgust on his face. Tom and Larry had never been friends, but Larry had never been quite so insulting towards him. Jealousy really is such an unattractive trait. "How is that worse than what I did?"

"I haven't fucked anyone!" Sybil shouted, fighting back the tears.

"Leave her alone, Larry," Tom said firmly, trying hard to resist the urge to punch that witless idiot in the stomach.

Sybil turned away, making for the kitchen, not wanting to get into a full on shouting match when emotions were running high and nothing had had any time to settle as of yet. Larry tried to follow her, attempting to enter the house he'd spent so many days and nights in over the last few years, but Tom stood in his way. He didn't want to allow Larry near her if it would make her feel uncomfortable. "I said, leave her alone," he said firmly. Even though Larry was taller than Tom, Tom had more muscle and whether he was proud of it or not, no doubt had been part of more physical fights than Larry had.

"Surely it's her choice?" Larry said, hatred apparent in his eyes, but his voice light, putting on a façade of innocence.

"She told you not to bother. And she asked you to respect her decisions. She's made her choice. She doesn't want you anywhere near her. Leave her alone, Larry," Tom said, clearly trying to keep his anger to a minimum, but it rose within him with ever y word he spoke to that worthless and empty man in front of him. Larry stared him down, attempting to make it clear that he was the one in charge, trying to get Tom to submit, but he never would. Larry could stare at him for years and he'd never back down. Not when it was Sybil's happiness on the line.

When Larry gave up attempting to force Tom into submission, he chose, instead of walking away and forgetting about the whole situation, to walk past Tom on his way to Sybil. He didn't make it far though. Tom stood directly in front of him and pushed him backwards, stopping him from going any further. "What are you doing?" Larry exclaimed in disgust, eyeing Tom critically.

"Making sure Sybil gets the privacy she asked for."

"She's not being very private when you consider she's got a journalist hanging about the house. How much does she think she'll get away with before you start writing everything about her life in that pathetic piece of shit you call a newspaper?" he asked with arrogance evident in his voice and self-righteousness surrounding his stance. When he tried to make his way past again, Tom stood in his way, determined not to let him past.

"Insult me as much as you want. I'm not letting you get near Sybil if that's what she's specifically stated she doesn't want," Tom said through gritted teeth. How the hell had Sybil put up with this bastard for such a long time? He made everyone he came into contact with feel inferior. No wonder Sybil's self-esteem had slowly dropped ever since she had started spending more time with Larry.

Larry's jaw dropped at Tom's words. He clearly thought it rude that Tom had the audacity to stand up for Sybil. But if he thought that rude, how had he not thought fucking another woman behind Sybil's back was rude too? He pulled himself away from Tom before launching himself at him with his fist on target to collide with Tom's jaw. Tom narrowly dodged Larry's punch, but willingly gave him one in the stomach. He wasn't aiming to hurt exactly, but Larry desperately needed to learn a lesson on how to be a half decent human being. Larry bent over at Tom's hard physical contact and instinctively grabbed his stomach, dropping the bunch of flowers he'd been holding the entire time. "How long is it going to take you to realise that Sybil doesn't want you here?" Tom said, trying to keep his voice down, but hardly succeeding. Larry threw himself at Tom again, hitting him square in the shoulder. Tom fought back and pushed him backwards by his shoulders making him almost trip over backwards out of the front door. Just as Larry was finding his feet once again, Sybil appeared around the corner.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Your… fuckbuddy punched me," Larry said, vengeance turning to fire in his eyes.

"He is NOT my fuckbuddy!" Sybil shouted, making her way towards the front door now. "And I'm sure he had a perfectly good reason to do what he did!" Larry opened his mouth and looked as if he were about to apologise, but Sybil stopped him before he could say anything. She shoved him backwards, catching him off guard, and managed to push him out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Tom turned to Sybil and said, "I should go, too." He turned as if to go out the front door, but Sybil grabbed his arm as he turned away from her and said,

"Don't you dare!" When he turned to face Sybil, he saw that her eyes were brimming with tears that were about to fall down her cheeks.

"Sybil," he said sympathetically, not sure how to react, as he wasn't sure exactly what she was crying about. He brought her into a hug, enveloping her with his strong arms, as she sobbed into his chest for the second time in the space of less than twenty four hours.

"What's he thinking?" she asked through muffled sobs. She pushed away from Tom and began to walk towards the sitting room where she'd confided in him the night before. "Why does he think I want him back?" she asked, not facing Tom, but asking him as an open question.

"Because he doesn't see that what he's done is wrong."

"Then he's a snake," Sybil said, tears still running down her cheeks. "How can he not know that shagging someone else is wrong? Especially when he _knew_ I was coming round that day! He should have known I was going to catch him!" Sybil shouted into the air, thinking aloud.

"You're right. He _should_ have known. And he _is_ a snake. But you're shot of him, Syb," Tom said, trying to comfort her.

"Yeah, I suppose." Sybil paused to wipe the tears from her face. "You did have a reason, didn't you?" she asked, hoping he'd say he did.

"For what?"

"Punching him."

"He tried to come in. I told him to go away and he still tried, and then he insulted me and I _still_ didn't let him in, so he tried to punch me, and when that didn't work, I punched him." Despite how wrong Sybil knew the whole situation was, she couldn't help but smile.

"You know you shouldn't have got into a fight over me."

"It wasn't a fight over you, per se," Tom said with a smirk. "It was a fight over what's wrong and what's right."

"Larry being the wrong party, I gather," she said with a smile. Her eyes were still slightly watery, but at least now she was beginning to cheer up once again. Tom really did have a positive effect on her. He simply smiled in reply. Of course Larry was the wrong party and of course Tom was the perfect man that Sybil knew him to be.

"Do you want to go out for coffee? Or cake? Or both?" Tom asked. Sybil laughed at how he was rambling awkwardly to himself. "Just, it will get us out the house. Fresh air. Real life. It might make things better," he said, trying his best to convince Sybil.

"Sounds like a brilliant plan," she said through a smile. "You just need to let me get dressed and ready." She turned away and made her way up the stairs as Tom stayed in the sitting room. He looked at his phone to check he hadn't missed any texts or alerts, but he hadn't. He wasn't expecting any contact, but every so often he knew he'd get a text out of the blue from his sister back in Ireland, a friend or a colleague perhaps. He quickly checked his emails using his 3G. He checked them so often on his phone that it was almost second nature to go straight there when he turned his phone on.

Half way through reading an email from his boss, Tom heard Sybil calling down the stairs. "Tom?" He made his way to the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see her in a cream dress with blue flowers, hair now dry and out of the bun, and half a face of makeup on. He smiled as he looked at her, the gorgeous woman that she was. "I've got a spare toothbrush if you want to clean your teeth," she said, looking down at him. She was holding a mascara wand in one hand and a compact mirror in the other.

"Ah, thanks," Tom said, as he began making his way up the stairs. "Why do you have spare toothbrushes of all things?" he asked as he got closer to her.

"Because things like this happen sometimes. Well, not usually like _this_, but, you know, someone won't want to go home because they're drunk or something and they'll stay the night and you'd be surprised how many toothbrushes I've gone through due to the number of unexpected visits. Come on," she said as Tom reached the top of the stairs and she started walking towards her room. "They're in my bathroom." Tom followed her through her slightly less than tidy room to her much tidier en suite. He'd forgotten just how posh Sybil's house was. For someone of her age, it was remarkable that she was able to afford a place like this. Of course, her parents had helped her (Robert wasn't going to allow any daughter of his to 'slum it', despite Sybil's protests), but it still astonished Tom every time he thought of it. Sybil found the packet of new toothbrushes in a drawer and handed one to Tom. "Toothpaste's on the shelf," she said, pointing to the tube. She wandered back into her bedroom as Tom cleaned his teeth.

When he came out of the small bathroom, he found Sybil holding her mirror in front of her and applying a deep pink lipstick. She smiled when she saw him. He felt a bit awkward being in her bedroom. There was nothing to be worried about – nothing was going to happen, but that didn't take away the awkwardness completely. "Why are you using that mirror?"

"Huh?" she replied, concentrating more on trying to find where her blue flats had gone than on what Tom was saying.

"Your mirror. How come you don't have a bigger one? Most vanity tables have one."

"Oh," Sybil replied, registering what he had said, but still searching for her shoes. "I moved all the furniture in my room around a couple of weeks ago and it smashed then. I haven't had the chance to replace it yet, that's all."

"Seven years bad luck," Tom chuckled, knowing that all that superstition was nonsense.

"I don't believe in that. Have you seen my blue shoes?" she asked. She barely took a breath between the two sentences, changing the subject swiftly.

"These ones?" he said, picking up the pair of shoes half covered by a blanket on the floor.

"Ah! Yes, those would be the ones," she said, walking towards him to take them off him. After slipping them onto her feet she said, "Right. I think I'm ready. My bag's downstairs and all's well and good!" It was nice to see her smiling, to see her cheerful and enjoying life as she once did. "Let's go."

She made her way out of her room and down towards the front door, with Tom following. She grabbed her bag and checked that she had everything in it that she needed and with that they were out of the house and on their way to the coffee shop for the well-known healthy breakfast of coffee and cake. Possibly even both in one, who knew?


	5. Chapter 5

**One Phone Call Away: Chapter 5**

Sybil was standing by the till of the coffee shop, her plain black purse, full to bursting with loyalty cards, in her hands, waiting for the coffee to be made so that she could then pay the cashier. The coffees were placed on the counter by the rather unattractive worker and as Sybil was taking her card out, Tom handed his to the man behind the till. Sybil frowned at him, not having expected him to pay. "Well, why shouldn't I?" Tom said in answer to Sybil's silent question.

"Because, as chivalrous as it is, this is the twenty first century," Sybil stated.

"Very true, but I feel like treating you," Tom said as he entered his pin number.

"Why? I'm the one who made you give up your night yesterday to comfort the blubbering ranting mess that I was."

"I didn't 'give up' anything," he said, taking his card and the coffees as Sybil took the cake, smiling to the man in thanks. "I didn't have plans and I wanted to come and see you." The two of them found a table and as they sat down Sybil eyed him suspiciously. "What?" he asked defensively, but humour still in his voice.

"You didn't even know that Larry and I were over," Sybil said, an eyebrow quirked.

"And would you have asked me for what you did if you two weren't over?" Tom asked, knowing that he could easily have Sybil defeated with that comment. Sybil sighed inwardly. Tom had won this time.

Sybil avoided looking at Tom's eyes and took her piece of orange cake, and placed Tom's slice of tiffin in front of him, as he scooted Sybil's coffee over to her across the table. Tom smirked and said, "I've won, haven't I?" Even though Sybil wasn't looking at Tom, she knew he was smirking. She could _hear_ the smirk in his voice. She looked at him and tried not to smile, but couldn't manage it. Sure enough, despite her efforts to stop it, the corners of her lips curled up, forcing her to smile. "You're not the best loser in the world, are you?" Tom asked humorously.

"No, but I'm not the worst. Try watching Mary lose an argument. She crumbles. Though, actually, that doesn't happen very often. She's argued enough with Edith over the years to know how to win, no matter what the argument is about."

"Yes," Tom pondered. "Mary's always been so… oh, what's the word?" he said, looking into the air for inspiration.

"Stubborn?" Sybil suggested without missing a beat.

"You said it, not me!" Tom said with a laugh. "I honestly don't know how Matthew puts up with it all the time, that's all."

"You mean, putting up with a stubborn Crawley? Trust me, Tom, if you want to avoid getting entangled with a stubborn Crawley, start running now. I'm just as stubborn as Mary, but in my own way," Sybil warned. Tom laughed.

"Maybe I'll ask Matthew for advice then," he said. _I'm not going to start running away from you, Sybil. I never could._ "We need to stick together if we're mad enough to take on the Crawley girls."

"So, you're taking me on now, are you?" Sybil smiled as she picked up her cake and took a bite. "A word of warning," she said through a mouthful of crumbs. "If it's you against me, you'll lose!"

"Is that really true? If I'm with you, how can I be losing?" Sybil knotted her brows together – that line was remarkably cringe-worthy. But nonetheless, she couldn't help the grin that began to form on her face and the blush that began to run up her cheeks. "Sorry, that was terrible," Tom chuckled, blood rushing to his cheeks now from embarrassment.

"Yeah, it really was!" Sybil said with a slight laugh. "But it's nice. Getting compliments. I'd kind of forgotten what it was like. Larry never took the effort. I guess I've forgotten how to accept them," Sybil said as she bashfully looked down into her coffee.

Tom felt so sorry for Sybil. She'd been stuck in a toxic relationship for over two years, and she didn't even realise how bad Larry was for her. He wasn't abusive or violent. He just wasn't nice. He was rude and unkind and offensive. Tom could only assume that he'd made Sybil feel like the most important girl in the world. And of course, as far as Tom could see, she was. She was perfect in every way. Her hair was always perfect in its entirely imperfect way. Her eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue and her freckles made her cheeks all the more attractive. Her body was astonishingly beautiful and she was clever. She was courageous and motivated and determined and independent and well… flawless. Tom was so glad to know Sybil, to be her friend, her confidante, maybe more in the future?

An hour or so later, the two of them had finished their coffee and cake and were walking slowly back to Sybil's house. It was a beautiful day, so they were walking through open fields and parks, navigating around children playing and dogs chasing balls thrown for them by their owners. "You know, I meant it. What I said earlier. About how stubborn I am," Sybil said, breaking the soft silence that had settled between them.

"I know you did."

"And you're not going to run away?"

"Not even tempted," Tom said with a smirk. Sybil smiled at his words and felt her cheeks darkening in colour slightly. She slipped her hand gently into his and wrapped her fingers around his. When she looked at Tom, his expression held a look of worry. "Are you sure?" he asked. Sybil laughed at his awkwardness.

"What? It's not like it's a fuck against a bookshelf!" Tom joined her then in her giggles.

Charming. That's what she was. Charming. How many Earls' daughters could be caught talking about fucking against a bookshelf in public? Even a lot of Tom's working-class friends would never venture into that territory, especially after having come out of a two year relationship less than twenty four hours previously. Sybil was different from other girls. In the way she thought and the way she behaved and the way she held herself and the views she expressed and the beauty that radiated out of her, shining brightly onto everything within a fifty yard radius. The definition of beauty, of intellect… of perfection.

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><p><em>Thank you all SO MUCH for your continued support for this fic. I hope you like this update and please leave a review if you can!<em>


	6. Chapter 6

**One Phone Call Away: Chapter 6**

A few weeks had passed since Sybil had caught Larry red-handed. Sybil and Tom had spent a few evenings together over the past few weeks, some of the time just because they wanted a friend to hang out with, but sometimes because Sybil needed some comfort. After all, it hadn't been long since her break up with Larry. And, although she saw Gwen a lot, and as much as she loved that red-haired firecracker, sometimes it seemed better to talk to someone who knew relatively little about her previous relationship. The problem with having a best friend like Gwen is that Sybil told her practically everything, which became difficult when one of the major story arcs of her life crumbled to the ground in five seconds flat. So Sybil had decided to spend some time with Tom instead. They'd spent a few evenings watching TV on the sofa, some at Sybil's and some at Tom's. They'd ordered pizza one evening. They weren't overdoing it, though. Sybil knew she had feelings for Tom, which were getting stronger with each evening they spent together, and Tom knew he had feelings for her, which he was desperately trying to suppress to avoid involuntarily making her feel uncomfortable.

This evening, they were meeting up at Tom's. As Sybil sat on the bus on her way to his, she leant her head against the glass of the window and thought back to the night before. She'd been woken by the sounds of workmen shouting at each other across the street. 'Do they have to start so early?' she'd thought, only to look at the clock and find it was half past ten. It wasn't early at all. But nonetheless she was still irritated that her peaceful dream had been interrupted.

_She stood under a tree in the middle of winter, surrounded by uninterrupted snow on the ground and flakes still falling from the sky. Grass could be seen beneath her feet where the snow had settled on the vast branches above her head, never reaching the ground below. She stood with her back against the bark, surprisingly not rough and not cold. In fact, her whole body seemed remarkably warm, considering the environment around her. She thought she saw a snowy owl, beautiful shades of white and grey with piercing yellow eyes and yellow claws tucked beneath its streamlined belly, but she couldn't be completely sure that her eyes weren't telling lies; her vision was a little hazy. Tom stood in front of her, holding her jaw in his hands softly. He smiled at her, wearing a white shirt, open at the collar; her very own Mr. Darcy! She didn't know what she was wearing, having lost herself so deeply in the bright blue eyes of the Irishman. He must have been cold wearing a shirt as thin as that, but perhaps he felt just as warm as she did. He brought his free hand up to her face and slid his fingers through her hair, making sure it wasn't falling across the contours of her cheeks. She lifted her chin slightly at the touch of his finger beneath her jaw and she lifted herself up onto the ball of her foot to meet her lips with his. He leant down to her, allowing her to return her weight to the full soles of her feet. One hand remained in her hair, cradling the back of her head, as the other slid down to the small of her back, supporting her in their unison. Sybil felt the tickle of his stubble on her own soft skin, but it didn't irritate her. Instead, she found it oddly soothing. His lips were soft and tender, joining with hers in just the right way, causing her to lose all of her senses…_

Bloody workmen! Why _now_ of all times? She remembered back to that morning, when she'd lain in bed for longer than was perhaps necessary, thinking of the situation in the dream. It didn't make sense that she was having such subconscious thoughts about Tom. She'd thought just as much as he did that she needed some time to recover from coming out of the relationship with Larry, so surely such thoughts about Tom were just wrong? She liked him, and yes they'd been holding hands, but it didn't seem right to throw herself into a new relationship so fast that she was thinking of kissing him only after two weeks, especially as it wasn't even an official thing. It was just wrong. It wasn't how things were supposed to be. But the dream had been so believable. It had felt so natural to let Tom take her into that all-consuming kiss. So maybe it was the right thing to do.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when the bus came to a rough halt by the side of the road. She walked down the aisle of the bus and stood still on the pavement as she watched it pull back into the road to deliver the other passengers at different points around the city. She began to make her way to Tom's house, the route becoming more and more familiar with every journey she made to his. As she walked beside the road, listening to the birds singing and hearing laughs and screams from children in the park just around the corner, she tried to block the thought of kissing Tom out of her mind. Nothing was going to happen. At least not right now. She settled into a rhythm, listening to the sounds of her shoes hitting the ground with each stride and took the opportunity to allow nothing to fill her mind but empty space. She liked time to think about menial things sometimes.

When she arrived at Tom's she rang the doorbell and waited for an answer. She leant against the wall and folded her arms over her chest as she stood in patience. She snapped her view up when she heard the click of the door opening in front of her. Tom stood to one side to let Sybil in, and she walked past him and waited in the hallway for him to close the door. When he turned back to her, she couldn't help but look at his lips. They seemed so tempting, and she thought to herself that he probably was just as good a kisser in real life as he was in that dream, or at least she hoped he was, but at the same time she felt guilty for dreaming that in the first place. Sybil quickly took her gaze away when she realised that her eyes were trained on his lips. She hid it by turning away and making her way into the living room without saying anything. Tom followed her, but stopped in the doorway and watched her place her bag and kick her shoes off beside the sofa before collapsing onto it. "What's up?" Tom asked, staying by the door.

"Nothing," Sybil said. "Why do you ask?"

"You didn't even say hi," Tom pointed out.

"Oh, sorry," Sybil said as she looked back at him, trying desperately to keep her eyes on his eyes rather than on his lips. "Hi, hello!" she said, a little too enthusiastically. "I was just thinking about other things, that's all."

"Well, food will be ready in a minute."

"Ooh, what are we having?" Sybil said, jumping off the sofa to follow him into the kitchen. Thankfully he had simply brushed off the way in which Sybil had behaved when she arrived. Hopefully that wouldn't come up again.

"Fajitas," Tom called back. Sybil walked into the kitchen and paused to take in the smell of the food that was just about to be finished cooking.

"Oh Tom that smells gorgeous! I wish I could cook as well as you can," Sybil said.

"I'll teach you if you'd like," Tom said, beginning to turn off the heat on the food.

"Really?" Sybil said, surprised that Tom had offered.

"Of course I would," Tom said. "As long as you promise not to burn the house down, I think we'll be alright," he joked.

"I promise," Sybil said, as she walked towards him and took his hand. He looked at her sweetly, squeezed her fingers and smiled before taking his hand away from hers to finish preparing the food.

Sybil and Tom sat at the dining table eating and talking, both with a glassful of wine, until Tom noticed Sybil's silence once again. "Are you sure you're alright?" Tom asked through the silence, with sincerity apparent in his voice.

"I'm fine," Sybil said, forcing a smile before she took a sip of wine to avoid making eye contact with Tom. He frowned to himself, certain that something was up, but he took another mouthful of his food rather than prying further.

"You know I'm not working tomorrow," he said, trying to change the subject.

"I am," Sybil said with a sigh. "And I thought journalism was usually a nine to five job. How come you have weird timings and out of the blue days off?"

"I just have to do a certain number of hours per week. I can go in as and when I please as long as I do those hours at some point in those seven days," he said. "So I've given myself tomorrow off. I'm completely shattered – I'm planning on having a lie in."

"Sorry; that's probably partly my fault," Sybil said, finding the courage to look at him.

"What? That I'm tired? How is that your fault?" Tom questioned seriously, but with a small Irish chuckle.

"I've been keeping you busy. You would have had a lot more sleep if I didn't keep coming round to see you."

"No, Syb, it has nothing to do with you," Tom said quickly, but then saw the way in which Sybil's face had dropped even further and immediately regretted his words. She was obviously already feeling guilty for taking up his time and now she'd heard proof that Tom thought it too. His work had nothing to do with her. His free time had nothing to do with her. _He_ had nothing to do with her. "No, shit. Oh God, I didn't mean that it has nothing to do with you, Syb. I mean, um…"

"It doesn't matter," Sybil said plainly to cut off his ramblings. Her voice seemed to have little emotion and although her expression acted as a barrier to her soul, Tom could tell that it was protecting a hurt inside and a cracking heart.

"Yes it does. Of course I care about you, Sybil," he said, trying to remedy the situation, but there was no hope. Sybil stared down at her almost empty plate and said,

"Perhaps this isn't a good idea, Tom." She was desperately trying to stop her voice from cracking, and she'd succeeded so far, but she didn't know how much longer she could hold it off.

"Sybil, what are you…?"

"I can't do it Tom. Not now. This can't happen," she said finally as she stood from her chair and made her way into the living room to slip her shoes back on grab her bag. As she emerged from the dimly lit room back into the corridor, she was met by Tom's shadow as he came up towards her. She took a few steps into the hall and looked at him. "Thanks for the food and… everything, but I can't do this right now."

"Sybil, wait…" But she was already gone. The front door had closed behind her and she was walking down the road already.

Tom stood in the hallway and stared at the inner side of the front door, unsure how to feel. Had he rushed Sybil into this? How could he have done when she was the one who rang him in the first place? He should have known this wouldn't end well. Being with a guy like Larry could screw a person up. No. This was _not_ the end. Tom found the energy to find his mobile and start a text to Sybil.

_I know it's hard and_

No. That was a lie. He didn't know how she was feeling at all. He started again.

_I didn't mean to offend you._

No. Well, it's true; he _didn't_ mean to offend her. But that just sounded wrong. He tried to start again, but just stared at the screen of his phone, his fingers never hitting the keys of the virtual keyboard. He tried to think of how he could phrase something that Sybil could take in a good way. In the end he settled for this:

_If I've done anything wrong, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm always here to talk if you want to._

He hit send, but only after reading the three short sentences over and over again, checking and rechecking in his head that no harm would be done by sending it. Well, he could never ensure that, could he? But he could hope that no harm would be done. He sighed and rubbed thumb and forefinger across his forehead. How had this happened?

When Sybil got out of the taxi she'd taken from Tom's she managed to hold off the tears until she'd shut the front door behind her. The second she heard the click of the lock behind her, she leant against the doorframe and let out a loud sob, tears falling down her cheeks and air leaving her lungs in huge bursts. Her emotions had all amalgamated in the space of less than twenty four hours into one messy mush of feelings that she couldn't interpret no matter how hard she tried. She wasn't even completely sure why she was crying, but it was all her body would let her do. She slowly made her way up the stairs until she reached her bedroom where she kicked off her shoes angrily, dropped her bag without a care for where it landed or what spilled out of it and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face into her feather pillow, muffling her cried of sadness, anger and confusion. She remained where she was, never even thinking about getting out of her clothes, hardly even considering the possibility of scrambling under the covers, until her breathing became deeper and her mind became calm enough that it allowed her to settle into sleep. Perhaps sleep could cure some of her pain. It could never get rid of all of it, but some of it, surely?

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><p><em>This was my blogger's choice contribution to LSL week (the final day). I just want to give a shout out to The Yankee Countess because of something that happened with this chapter which worked me into a state - she knows what I'm on about: I love you, sweetie! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and please leave a review if you did.<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_I know this hasn't been updated in forever and some of you probably thought I'd abandoned it. I haven't. I suppose I could give excuses as to why this hasn't been done earlier, but it won't help anyone, so I won't. I know it's a short chapter, but I hope you like it all the same._

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Sybil slowly opened her eyes, rubbing some life into them with the heels of her hands as she thought. She was in a complete state. She was still in her clothes from yesterday, but was too comfortable to think about moving out of bed just yet. She felt awful. She'd just abandoned Tom mid-evening. He was just being kind. He had invited her into his house and cooked for her and he'd given up his time for her and she'd just left him hanging. How could she have been so heartless? She knew he had feelings for her. He must have been completely distraught by her abrupt departure last night. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and sat up, not yet functioning properly. She glanced at the clock and immediately her eyes widened and her brain jerked into focus. "Shit!" She would never make it into work on time. She sprung up and rushed between bathroom and bedroom to get herself together properly. It was at times like this that she wished she kept her room tidier. A shower would have to wait until later. She just had to get the right clothes on, get her hair out of her face and get out of the house. She didn't have time for anything else.

Tom woke up earlier than he intended to. He wanted a lie in. He'd _planned_ a lie in. He didn't want to go to work. Maybe that would be the only way to get his mind off last night, though. Maybe he wouldn't have a choice. But he didn't move. He lay beneath his duvet, comfortable in the bed that seemed far too large now. It was a ridiculous thing to think – he'd never shared his bed with Sybil. He hadn't shared his bed with anyone for months, but it felt empty and bare. His life felt bare now that Sybil had given up on him. For so many years all he'd been able to think about was her, and now she was gone. She hadn't replied to his text. He didn't even know if she'd read it. For all he knew, she could have seen it was a message from him and purposefully ignored it. But he wished desperately that that wasn't true. Maybe his mind was playing tricks with him. It tended to do that when he was hooked on something, when he wouldn't let go… or _couldn't_ let go.

That evening the two were sitting in their separate homes, each having had completely crap days. All of Sybil's patients seemed to be in worse condition than usual, and she felt that she was being bullied by her superiors. She hadn't been able to get Tom out of her head all day, and was beginning to regret having walked out on him the evening before. Tom had decided that the only way he would do anything productive was to go into work and block Sybil out of his head. He, surprisingly, had got a lot of admin done that he'd been putting off for weeks, but it made him miserable. He had gone into journalism to write, not to organise papers. The plan had worked though, and he hadn't thought of Sybil while he was working, but as soon as he'd got home, his mind wandered into the realms of yesterday evening. He wished it had never happened. He wished Sybil could burst through the front door right now, throw herself into his arms and start everything afresh.

Sybil sat curled up on her sofa, a pillow on her lap and an empty mug in her hand. She had been alternating between reading a book and using her phone, but was quickly getting bored of both. She stared at the screen of her phone, showing her list of contacts. She was stuck on the name _Tom Branson_. The last time she'd been stuck looking at that name, she'd been in almost as bad a state as she was in now. It was ridiculous that he, the man whom she was developing serious feelings for, only seemed to pop into her head when she needed comforting. Not when she wanted a laugh. Not when she wanted a friend to chat to. When she needed comforting. It seemed such a menial task, but it must mean something that he was the only one she would trust with these feelings. She scrolled through her contacts until she reached another familiar number – one she'd dialled countless times in the past – _Gwen Dawson_. She hesitated for a few seconds, considering if this was the right thing to do, but then firmly pressed the contact to ring the number. Finally Gwen answered, after what seemed like an eternity to Sybil. "Hi, Syb, how's it going? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in _ages_!" she said, in her normal, cheerful, distinguishing tone.

"I'm fine. Do you want to meet up this weekend? Just down at the pub or something?" Sybil asked, suddenly feeling a desperate need to see her best friend.

"Sure!" Gwen said loudly. "Saturday night? Seven o'clock?"

"Gwen, are you alright. You sound a bit… off," Sybil said suspiciously.

"I'm fine. _Trust me._ I'm having the best time ever. So, Saturday, seven, pub, yeah?" she said, almost all in one breath. It sounded as if Gwen were drunk. Sybil made a mental note to ring Gwen tomorrow to check on her and remind her of their plans. The likelihood of her remembering much tomorrow morning seemed pretty slim.

"Sure. I'll see you there," Sybil said with a small smile of sincerity that she hoped Gwen could hear in her voice.

"Love you, bye!" Gwen said, her voice fading, Sybil presumed due to her taking the phone away from her face before she'd finished her sentence.

"Bye," Sybil said as the line went dead. She took the phone away from her ear and ended the call. What would she do without Gwen? They'd been best friends for what seemed like forever, and it had always seemed that they were practically joined at the hip. The only times that ever failed were when boys were involved. Though Sybil loved Tom more than she was willing to admit, she didn't want to overdo it with him and risk losing her relationship with Gwen. She couldn't betray her best friend. That wasn't an option.

Sybil remembered how their friendship had almost fractured multiple times due to boys. It was Gwen first. She was always the louder one who attracted more attention and always seemed to have a little group of guys following her about. A loud personality was what men seemed to want when they were seventeen and studying for A-'levels. Most of them ignored Sybil. She was the posh one with the old-fashioned title and the important father and the big house. She was too quiet and too studious and not the right sort of girl. But Gwen with the red hair and the outgoing personality and the party attitude seemed to be a water hole for them. Sybil could have sworn that men flocked from miles, from all the different schools in the area, just to have a chance with her. She was always the centre of attention at parties and sort of a target for all the boys. This, in itself, didn't cause any problems between the two friends. It was only when Gwen actually started going out with one of them that Sybil saw the bond they had begin to break down. Gwen would rather talk to Peter than to Sybil. All of her evenings were taken up and she hardly saw Sybil at all. It seemed ridiculous. They were best friends and a boy had broken them apart. Gwen's relationship with Peter only lasted a few months and the damage to her friendship with Sybil was minimal, but it had been weakened. Gwen continued to have flings with various guys, but they never lasted more than a few weeks, so Sybil learned to deal with it. And eventually, once the girls were at uni together, Sybil found Larry. She'd had feelings for a few others before she and Larry had started going out, but those feelings never blossomed into anything more, so when she started dating Larry she was ready to throw everything she had at the relationship. She'd tried her hardest to keep talking to Gwen, but they had drifted slightly in the past two years. Now Sybil needed Gwen more than she knew and she just hoped that Gwen would understand her situation with Tom. Sybil hadn't managed to have a proper conversation with Gwen about what went down with Larry, and she felt that she needed to relay the news to her best friend if they were going to stay best friends for any length of time.

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><p><em>Again, sorry that this has been such a long time in coming, but please tell me your thoughts in a review.<em>


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